


Wreath of a Queen

by valkemi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Minor Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:12:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkemi/pseuds/valkemi
Summary: Sansa Stark becomes a Queen.But not the Queen she was meant to be.





	Wreath of a Queen

“I’m a Stark. I’m of the North. I am no Queen.”

“You have to be.”

“Bran, I don’t want to be Queen!” ( _Liar._ )

“But you will be.”

 

_“Your Queen. Will burn us all.”_

_The hiss of the flame stings her. But she does not dare move. They had gotten too close, his grey eyes stinging her. (Father’s eyes.)_

_“We need her-”_

_She can tell. He loves her. Too blinded to see what she’s done. What she’ll do._

_“You love her.’_

_He doesn’t deny it, and something shatters. So quietly, she barely notices. (She’s his aunt. His blood.)_

_“Sansa-”_

_“You’re a Targaryen. Just like her.”_

_She sees it. The flash of anger in his gaze, hiding behind the ice. Fear, shivering in her spine._

_A cousin. He was her cousin, not her brother._

 

Winterfell is on fire. Her home is bleeding. She can’t see it under the smoke and flames. They had stolen her and left her brother to die.

A roar scratches at her throat. She sheds tears that utter her goodbyes for her.

 

_She dreams of Lady. Running with golden eyes frantic, running to escape King’s Landing. Sansa can’t catch her._

_Lady bows when they reach the tower window. After growing wings like a bat, she vanishes into the woods. Sansa wants to follow but knows. Oh, she knows._

_Howling echoes in the night as a crown pierces her head._

 

“You’re dying.”

Cersei is thinner, a haunted woman. Her golden mane, an untamed mess of short hair, shameful for a lioness. She always will have her pride though.

 

_“A Lannister always pays her debts.”_

 

She’s drunk, watching the fresh blood staining Sansa’s dress. Bruises ache her body, and cuts prickle her. Death flirts with her skin.

“I am. It’s a cruel joke. I wasn’t pregnant, after all. A tumor. It was a fucking tumor.”

 

_“The more people you love, the weaker you are. You'll do things for them you know you shouldn't do, you'll act the fool to make them happy, keep them safe. Love no one but your children.”_

 

“You’re a Lannister.”

“No, I’m not.” Snow shakes her heart. Dreams of marrying a prince, who would love her. But then she remembers the boy who claws at his throat, blood running down his fingers.  
“Little dove, you are my heir. This will be all yours.”

“No, it won’t.”  
“Yes, it will.” She sips her wine, annoyance marring her face. “I wonder, will they kill you? Could they kill their beloved sister? Will they do to you what Jaime and Tyrion have done to me?”

 

_The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._

 

“Cersei is dead. There is no Queen in the South. The throne is Daenerys Targaryen’s.”

Tyrion- no, her lord husband again, isn’t it?- will have his words fall on deaf ears. Cersei had spared him for this, she realizes. A smile twists her face. Cersei always knew how to torment.

She drags her feet, head hanging in the shadows, but her back is unbent. The crown feels like thornes digging into her skull.

 

_“I am no Queen.”_

_Bran’s eyes are empty, lost in the past or in the future. But never here._

_“Sansa, you always were.”_

 

“Sansa Lannister! Queen of the Andals and the First Men!”

 

Fury follows the silence. Chaos erupts at her betrayal. She remains frozen, unmoved by their pleas and protests. She feels her body in the crypts of Winterfell; a statue to mourn over.

 

“Bend the knee, Lady Sansa.” Daenerys Targaryen, a fearsome little thing. Bells in her hair seem to serenade the noise suffocating them. “Bend the knee or die.”

 

“You can not! Sansa, what are you-” Jon’s voice tears and scrambles for her, but she can’t be Sansa Stark. No, she must be Sansa Lannister. She can hear Arya’s feral cursing, and Gendry’s placating mumblings.

 

“Dragons do not scare me, Your Grace.” Her beasts are watchful. ( _Lady._ ) If she had anything left to fear, she may have cowered in their gaze. But she was a Queen now. “King’s Landing will not burn. My home is gone, burned to ashes. So I will protect this one.”

 

_Family. Duty. Honor._

 

Snow. She will miss the snow. The feeling of the wind biting her skin. To be in the Godswood again. How her heart aches.

 

_“You must fight them.That’s how you’ll protect them. Promise me, Sansa.”_

_“Bran-”_

_“Promise me.”_

_No Three-Eyed Raven haunts her brother’s face. It’s him who asks her. Him who is crying now. She rubs his tears aways, whisper fierce in the silence of the Godswoods, oblivious to what this vow has condemned her to._

_“I promise.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Might make this a series because I'm more into it than I thought? Depending on the [response]/[motivation I'm feeling], I might write more of this universe.


End file.
